secretly flee (subter fuge). What parts of your wardrobe could be described as costume-like, derivative or reminiscent of some specific style archetype (the secretary, the hobo, the flapper, yourself as a child)? Did you like the poem and paragraph on my mother? Here goes a my mother paragraph crafted by one of our writers. Here's 'The project' for that.
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Born in 1977, at the tail end of Generation X, I came of age in the 1990s, a decade that, bracketed neatly by two architectural crumblings of the Berlin Wall in 1989 and the Twin Towers in 2001 now seems relatively irony-free. Hey mother, I know you are not perfect but that is okay, I want you as my mother, not a perfectionist, nobody. Hey mother, I am sorry, I know you have got a lot more wrinkles than the last time I have seen you, But you will always be my warrior, That unsung hero to my world. But 'how to fix things around the house' is only the tip of the iceberg. . There are around 152 million Mothers Day cards sent every year! You know, the stuff you need to know so it doesn't look like you've been living under a rock this whole time. Whenever we are called to attend social functions like marriages or birthday parties, she takes us there. The ironic life is certainly a provisional answer to the problems of too much comfort, too much history and too many choices, but it is my firm conviction that this mode of living is not viable and conceals within it many social and political risks. In other words, the hipster can frivolously invest in sham social capital without ever paying back one sincere dime.